Hello all,
I thought I'd share with you my first rejection.
Actually, it was posted then there was a change of heart.
If you see what's wrong with it feel free to let me know.
Later,
....wtb... - http://www.pobox.com/~the.web.walker/humor/
==== NightLie ====
NightLie
Host, Brad Toupee, interviews Suzy Hubbell. -- It isn't clear whether Suzy is Web's wife or daughter (in Arkansas, they don't really make much of a distinction.)
Toupee: A judge blew off Monica Lewinsky's claim of immunity. No surprise there. The doctor treating Monica for AIDS told her months ago she didn't have immunity. When she asked for a second opinion, she was told, "Your lawyer sucks." Outraged, running from the office, she screamed, "That two timing son of a bitch, that's my job!" Then we have Web Hubbell, the man Clinton paid more to keep his mouth shut than Monica got to keep her's open, indicted for tax evasion.
Announcer: From NOT! News this is NightLie with Brad Toupee.
Toupee: What made me think about this today was my phone bill. What is this Gore Tax? Before we go to Suzy Hubbell, we have an audio clip, taken out of context, of one of Web Hubbell's phone calls from jail.
[Begin Audio Clip]
"They don't have to tell me twice. I know how to shut up when they pay me to shut up. I'm not saying anything to anybody about Hillary illegally billing clients. No sir-rey-bob, not me. No! Big hairy rats chewing my face off wouldn't make me tell about Clinton being up to his ears in quicksand with that Whitewater land scam. If the IRS can believe my tax returns, Ken Starr will believe 'I forgot.' Hell, that dumb bitch Susan McDougal is still rotting in jail and all they told her was the check was in the mail. Oh yeah, if you see Livingstone, tell him to check Newt's FBI file. I read in it that he ... Sorry, the guard says my time is up. I'll have to call you again tomorrow."
[End audio clip.]
Toupee: Suzy ...
Man standing behind the cue cards: Q, Peggy Sue. How I love you ...
Toupee: What?
Suzy: If you to know who Buddy Holly slept with, you'll have to ask my mother.
Toupee: Your mother slept with Hillary?
Suzy: What? Now you want to talk about Vince Foster?
Toupee: NO! NO! Can someone tell me who's f*cking with my cue cards?
Suzy: Hey! Wait a minute! I told the producer I wasn't going to talk about what happened that night on the pool table!
[Commerial Break]
Toupee: Yes. Yes. I'm sure you could've been a virgin if you could have run faster than your sister but I don't care if Web Hubbell is father to half the bastard children in Arkansas. Our viewing audience wants to know what Web told you in the phone calls.
Suzy: I couldn't really say what the old fart was talking about. After I answer the phone, I just put down the receiver and go about my chores. Hell, I'd blow the president himself if he'd paid Web enough money to shut up for five minutes. Web's a big mouth bass. That's what we call somebody down here in Arkansas that don't know when to shut up. Yeah, big mouthed bass. Sometimes we just call them dead but that's ...
Toupee: Yes. Thank you, Suzy.
Suzy: Yeah, a big mouthed bass. That's what ...
Toupee: Before we take our commercial break, I'd like to let our affiliates know that we will be running overtime because I wear a toupee that looks worse than a muskrat run over by an eighteen wheeler and was stumped into the ground by a gang of Hell's Angels high on Angel Dust and ... Hey, wait a minute. Is that Baghdad Pete holding up the cue cards? Pete! You BASTARD! You just wait. I'll see you on the Jerry Springer show then we'll see how tough you are.
[Baghdad Pete rushes across the stage and launches himself over Brad's desk. As Pete is beating Brad's head against his desk, the credits begin to roll.]
Announcer: Tomorrow night, is there too much violence on TV? Is the Jerry Springer show faked? What is the real story behind the latest Jerry Garcia sighting? So be with us when Bard Toupee [at this moment, Brad with broken nose, bleeding from his eyes and ears, collapses behind his desk] OR Baghdad Pete is here to feed you the story as only we can.
May 1, 1999 |
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